


Take Care

by Dulcinea



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blood and Injury, Bottom Vegeta (Dragon Ball), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rimming, Top Son Goku (Dragon Ball)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:47:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28521873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dulcinea/pseuds/Dulcinea
Summary: Goku knew when Vegeta wasn’t okay, and he knew what to do when that happened.
Relationships: Son Goku/Vegeta (Dragon Ball)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 64





	Take Care

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stardust_Steel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stardust_Steel/gifts).



He was doing it again. Goku knew the signs by this point, because while they were still figuring out the dynamics of their newfound relationship, he had been around Vegeta long enough to know when something was wrong. It came not in the way he isolated himself, or the way he scowled, or the way he talked. It came in the way he held himself. His posture always gave him away. 

It was good he was once married to a princess. Chichi carried herself around like Vegeta did: proud, head held high, nose almost turned up. Straight back, proud chest, a walk that you had to follow, and a presence that commanded the attention of anyone in the room. Chichi talked though. Chichi always told him when Goku did something wrong or hurt her feelings or was angry at him. 

Vegeta didn’t. Vegeta stewed. Vegeta held it all in and let it all out either by himself or against him in a spar. Sometimes Vegeta told him, “I was annoyed,” or “Something pissed me off.” But those were rare, and at first, Goku hated not knowing. Vegeta didn’t have to hold himself back. They fused more than once. They lived together now. They fought together forever. They were a couple now. Just when the hell was Vegeta going to let down his stupid walls? 

So Goku took it as a challenge. A fight to win. It wasn’t easy. It required a lot of observing, a lot of note taking, a lot of writing things down—all things that gave Goku a headache and drained his energy, because he didn’t really do stuff like this. He was the kind of person who went up to someone, asked them what was up and bugged the hell out of them until the person caved in. Not with Vegeta, though. Not only could Vegeta stay tight-lipped for a long time, he could also punch the living daylights out of him too. 

The work paid off though. He knew now when Vegeta wasn’t in the right frame of mind. When Vegeta wasn’t okay. Like today. 

Goku waited until Vegeta finished training in the Gravity Chamber adjacent to their home to talk to him. When Vegeta came in, full of cuts and bruises and nasty gashes on his arms and shoulders, Goku walked over to him with a large cup of ice cold water. Vegeta took it without a thank you, or a look at him, and Goku didn’t mind. He waited. 

He followed Vegeta to the bathroom, standing in the doorway while Vegeta stripped himself of his clothes. Stood there and waited as Vegeta bathed himself quickly in the shower. The dirt was gone and so was the sweat and grime, but the blood still flowed from certain cuts. 

Without a word said, Goku reached down beneath the sink, opened the cabinet doors and took out the first aid kit. He rested it on top, flicking open the lid. 

Beside him, Vegeta grunted, “Stop it.”

“Don’t care.”

“They’re nothing.”

He rummaged through the kit. “Uh-huh.” Took out the bandages and the ointment. 

“I’ll heal quick.”

“I know.”

“So stop—”

“Sit down.”

“Kakarot—”

Goku snapped his attention finally to Vegeta and loomed over him, his jaw set firm, his eyes narrowing to small slits. 

Vegeta didn’t look away. Didn’t flinch. But he did sit down on the toilet seat. He laid one arm across the top of the sink, palm up. 

It didn’t take long to bandage him. Most of the cuts would heal by the end of the evening. But the deeper ones did need attention, and taking care of them relaxed the coiled up tension inside of Goku. 

Once done, Goku grabbed Vegeta’s hand in his, pulling him up to his feet. “C’mere.” 

Vegeta didn’t resist, thankfully. He followed, allowing himself to be dragged by Goku, naked, out of the bathroom and into their bedroom. 

Goku smirked at Vegeta’s sharp gasp behind him. 

On the bed laid a tray of food—a lot of food. All of Vegeta’s favorites. Everything Goku took notes of over time. Desserts too. Goku released Vegeta’s hand and stood to the side, watching him walk forward towards the bed. 

Vegeta sat on the edge of the bed, picking up a flute of champagne—Goku started to shuck off his clothes—and slowly sipped it, closing his eyes. His lips curled into a smile as he pulled it away. 

“My favorite kind.” Vegeta turned back to Goku. “How did you—” That smile of his turned into a feral smirk. 

Goku returned that smirk in kind, walking over to the bed, naked as well. “I’ve been paying attention.”

“Astounding you can focus for that long.”

“Screw you.”

Vegeta chuckled, taking the other flute of champagne in his other hand. “I wouldn’t be adverse to that.”

Goku wrapped his fingers around Vegeta’s, around the champagne flute. “I’m sure.”

Almost in unison, the two of them drained their champagne glasses—gazes locked on each other the whole time. Goku rested the glass back onto the tray first, Vegeta second. 

“Food first?” Goku asked, crawling onto the bed—crawling over Vegeta’s body that started to lay back on the sheets. “Or… something else?”

Vegeta sunk his fingers into his hair, pulling him down, and a loud groan ripped out of Goku as their hardening cocks touched—groaning louder when Vegeta spread his legs wide, eyes fluttering shut when Vegeta squeezed his thighs around Goku’s hips.

Hot tongue against his earlobe. Sucking in his earlobe. Teeth nibbling it. Tongue circling it once, twice. Hand in his hair, massaging the scalp. Running nails through it. 

Another hand, on his back—clawing into the skin. Leaving burning trails in his wake, raking nails down, down, right to his tail scar—

Goku bucked, gasped, hissed, moaned against Vegeta’s cheek, “F-Fuck… Vegeta…”

Dark, throaty laugh. Final suck against his earlobe, and that tongue licked the side of his jawline. All the way to his lips. Licked his bottom lip and Goku parted his mouth open, waiting for Vegeta to take what he wished, wanting for Vegeta to use him as he pleased—

Vegeta yanked on his hair. 

Goku whined, rubbing against Vegeta, a fire running down his spine, his gut twisting, heat pooling, rising within him. Between his legs. 

He panted for air. Felt his own hot breath blow back against his own face. Felt Vegeta’s hot breath hovering over his nose. His mouth. 

Then the order finally came—in the way Vegeta knew Goku loved. The thing that drove Goku crazy, every time. 

“A’hu m’eh, m’yo Kakarotto.”

_Take me, my Kakarot._

Goku snarled, covering Vegeta’s mouth with his own. 

The tray spilled to the floor. Food scattered and rolled across the ground. Glass shattered, cutlery bounced. It didn’t matter. This mattered. Vegeta’s gasps, Vegeta’s moans, Vegeta’s hisses and growls and whines when Goku sucked his cock and played with his balls—that mattered more than anything. Pleasing Vegeta meant everything. 

He popped his mouth off of Vegeta’s cock to worry his balls, one after the other. He circled his tongue around Vegeta’s hole, licked each side of his inner thighs, stroked his cock the way he knew Vegeta liked—long, firm strokes, twisting his wrist here and there. Pumping the base. Fingering the tip. He licked and sucked right up against his perineum, and he humped the bed, listening to Vegeta’s cries, Vegeta’s gasps, the way Vegeta’s thighs twitched around his head, how his legs went taut over his shoulders, how his hips lifted clear off the bed. Offering himself to Goku. Needing this. Needing more. 

His pleasure meant nothing. Vegeta’s was all Goku cared about. So he gave what his Vegeta wanted. He rimmed his hole—lifted those hips clear off the bed, holding them in his strong hands, kneeling as he brought that plump ass to his lips and dove in. Didn’t come up for air. Didn’t breathe, taste anything but Vegeta’s sweat, Vegeta alone. Heard nothing but Vegeta’s sharp cry, Vegeta’s loud squeal, Vegeta’s hard, long, heavy pants for air, almost wheezing, fighting for each breath. 

It turned him on. It drove him crazy. He was doing this to Vegeta. Him. No one else could do this for his Vegeta. Only Vegeta let him do this. Only Vegeta let him take care of him. Only Vegeta allowed Goku to comfort him. 

His Vegeta. His prince.

His mate.

Goku fought back his whimper of need—ignored the sharp sting of tears—and slid his tongue out of Vegeta, bringing him back down to the bed. He blanketed Vegeta’s writhing body with his own, aiming his cock right for Vegeta’s loose, wet hole, while his other hand cupped the back of Vegeta’s sweaty neck, lifting his head towards him. 

He licked his lips, held his breath, hoped he wasn’t screwing up by saying this, by doing this, that he didn’t have the worst accent in the world and that he was saying the right thing to begin with— 

His cock slid in easy. 

Vegeta gasped under him. Smiled and sighed—in pleasure. Wrapped his arms around Goku’s neck. 

Goku waited until Vegeta opened his eyes. 

He whispered in a shaky, unsure voice: “M’eh i’t’au, m’yo ve’ho’ti.”

_I am yours, my prince._

The reaction was perfect. Everything Goku wanted. What his dreams couldn’t convey. The way Vegeta looked at him—the shock, the awe, the absolute love in his eyes, on his face—

His tears fell when Vegeta replied, “M’eh i’t’au’naye, m’yo Kakarotto.”

_I am yours too, my Kakarot._

The world zeroed down to the pleasure between them, to the sounds and the tastes of Vegeta. Goku fucked him well, fucked him like he knew Vegeta wanted: fast, hard, each thrust full of power and strength. Fucking him into the bed. Moving Vegeta’s hips in his hands. Using him however Goku wished. Fucking Vegeta like a rag doll, like a toy. Because Vegeta was his. Because he was Vegeta’s. Because Vegeta’s pleasure gave Goku pleasure. Because Goku’s pleasure belonged to Vegeta. 

Only Vegeta did this. Only Vegeta made him feel this way. Only Vegeta let him do this, love him like this, take care of him like this—

Goku sunk his teeth over the mate mark on Vegeta’s neck. The still fresh mate mark. Perfect. His. 

Pain, from his own neck. 

Vegeta’s teeth, into his neck. Over his own mate mark. 

Goku whined into Vegeta’s neck as he came inside his Vegeta. Nearly came again when he felt Vegeta growl into his neck and hot come shot up between them, over his own moving hand as he milked Vegeta through his orgasm. 

Slowly, Goku removed his teeth from Vegeta’s neck. Felt Vegeta do the same. Harsh, labored breathing. Sweaty skin. Vegeta’s scent. 

Vegeta’s lips, kissing his mate mark. 

Goku repeated the gesture, his kiss lingering for a good moment. 

He rolled off to his side and wrapped his arm around Vegeta’s waist, hugging him close to his chest. 

Beside him, Vegeta grunted. “Dirty again.”

“Wash soon.” Goku pushed his nose against Vegeta’s hairline, breathing him in, curling more around him. “Rest first.”

“Tch.” 

Vegeta’s sigh felt good against his bare chest. So did the way Vegeta completely relaxed in his embrace, how he nestled the side of his cheek against Goku’s sternum. How Vegeta rested soft fingers onto his left pec, and how they stroked the skin in small circles, here and there. Mindless patterns. Gentle. Soothing. 

Sleep tickled the edges of his mind. Goku yawned, pressing a kiss to Vegeta’s temple. 

He finally felt okay when Vegeta said, “Sorry about earlier.”

“Hmm.”

“I haven’t been… okay.”

“Mm.” Goku yawned again. “Figured.”

That chuckle felt nice. The vibrations. How relaxed Vegeta sounded. How good he felt in Goku’s arms. “Guess you’re not always an idiot.”

“Nope.” Goku rubbed his nose against Vegeta’s skin. “Because you make me better.” 

The body in his ars jerked a little, but it didn’t bother Goku. Vegeta wasn’t pushing away. Vegeta was still there, still here, with him. He wasn’t going anywhere. He trusted Vegeta, loved Vegeta, knew Vegeta—just as Vegeta did with him.

One last kiss to his temple, followed by a parting whisper: “M’yo ve’ho’ti.” 

He fell asleep to the sensation of Vegeta’s lips kissing his chest—right over his heart. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope I gave your request justice. Thanks for asking for it! Good to practice bottom Vegeta.


End file.
